


Memories and Battle Scars

by Shiner



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Bloodplay, Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-21 07:20:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4820327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiner/pseuds/Shiner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco is torn. The war is taking a toll on his mentality, luckily Potter has gotten surprisingly good at distracting him, by literally tearing him apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. lately i've been pulled down so hard

Draco sat on the floor of his cupboard, crying. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence. Growing up in the Malfoy Manner, it doesn’t take long until you know exactly what shade the dark mahogany floor turns when teardrops stain the wood, and how the small room looks through blurry eyes. He tried, as he always did, to stop, to tell himself “they’re not worth it,” and “stop being such a fucking pussy, you’re better than this,” but the tears still fell and his head still clouded over with the heavy fog he’d now come to associate with depression and his parents – they seem to go hand-in-hand.

He looked around his cramped little safe-space, and he couldn’t help but think of Potter, how in some ways they grew up in similar ways. Of course, Draco’s surroundings were, in most ways, preferable and optional. Potter probably hadn’t revisited his cupboard in years, yet here he was, Draco bloody Malfoy, 16 years old, heir to the Malfoy line, crying in a broom cupboard.

He imagined the other boy, sitting across him, a stark contrast to himself: confident where he was self-conscious, bold where he was anxious, dark where he was pale, electric where he was nothing but a blown fuse. For some reason, this idea of Harry Potter always comforted him. Maybe it was the idea of the unattainable, or maybe the idea of someone as lonely and broken as himself. Because Potter was broken. He’d been beaten down and shoved around all his life, but, unlike Draco, he’d gotten back up every time. He let his scars strengthen him. Sometimes that was both a comfort and another stabbing pain in his wounded heart – the idea of what Draco could’ve been, if only he’d been stronger.

He often thought about that, as the years passed, as he realized what being a Malfoy actually meant and what “pureblood,” in it’s purest form symbolized. It didn’t mean being cleaner, or better, or even smarter, (he realized the latter not long after meeting Granger), it just meant being. Being, the same way mudbloods… muggleborns… whatever they are do. That maybe he should do something, that maybe he should stand up to his parents, to Voldemort even, in the way Potter did. He wasn’t Potter, though, and he’d dug himself into a hole, and unlike Potter, he didn’t have his shining morality and bleeding-heart friends to pull him out. Unlike Potter, he was weak, and prejudiced, and wrong, and he would always be.

Potter just smiled at him though. Not real Potter, but his imaginary Potter. Potter had never smiled at Draco, not even once, but he’d seen him smile to his friends, to Cho Chang, to the Weaselette, and that’s how he imagined him smiling. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but it was like his voice was off, like it just projected into Draco’s head without ever leaving his mouth. He said, “It’s okay Malfoy. Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is let yourself be weak.” Draco just scoffed. It was just like Potter to say some poncey shit like that.

When he looked back, his Potter had gone. He wiped his eyes and figured it was time to get up and do something with himself. He packed his trunk and sat on it until dawn.

“Back to Hogwarts it is then,” he said, to no one in particular, or perhaps to the imaginary Potter that still loomed at the back of his mind.


	2. I can barely afford to miss out on you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revenge is better served medium rare: hot and bloody.

At least he had Pansy. Sure, she wasn’t the best person, but she took care of him. She held him in her lap and made things just a little easier for him. That helped – feeling like nothing else mattered. So that’s how he lay, in the train compartment on the Hogwarts Express, feeling his broken heart weakly swell within her warm embrace.

Then there was also the added comfort of knowing that Harry Potter was in the luggage compartment above. Well, comforting, but also overwhelming and annoying and not to mention a rude breach of privacy. Potter didn’t need to seem him like this, weak and dependent.

Draco knew the second he’d entered the carriage, that Potter was there. If not from his horribly obvious door opening skills, Potter’s quite invisible state still left the room drenched in the smell of Potter. And while perhaps not the worst of smells, it did rub Draco the wrong way. This was supposed to be his space. His space with his friends and his time to heal, so what right did Potter have to being here?

He didn’t say any of this. Instead he continued as usual, although he kept the conversations neutral, avoiding too much talk about Death Eaters and the such. He talked and scoffed and joked until the train came to a stop at Hogsmeade station. He told the others to go ahead, that he’d catch up, he just needed to sort out his belongings first. Once everyone had left the carriage, and presumably the train, he knocked Potter down from the luggage compartment and stomped on his face. He yelled at him and hexed him and left him alone to bleed. The git deserved it.

It was difficult then, to meet Potter’s eyes at the welcome feast later that evening. So, for once, he stopped looking all together. He examined his food. It was fanciful and beautiful and tasted sublime, as usual, but his senses were dulled and his feelings were numb and nothing felt fanciful at all.

He blamed Potter, mainly just for someone to blame, and because he was too scared to blame someone else – you never knew who was listening. Potter and his great quests and beautiful girlfriends and his constant need to pollute Hogwarts with an annual evil being. No, not evil – just dangerous. Yes, dangerous. 

Except Buckbeak, that bird truly was evil.

He didn’t feel like eating. He just pushed around his food and focused on not looking at Potter. It was a strangely difficult task. It all probably boiled down to habit, or Potter’s striking eyes.

Dumbledore dismissed them all a good hour after the sorting. There were significantly less first-years this year, as parents were starting to worry about the safety of Hogwarts – which really, should’ve happened years ago, but, then again, Draco was still here.

He glanced briefly at Potter, who was laughing with his friends as per usual, before shuffling off towards the Slytherin dorms.

It was only once he’d reached the portrait that he realized someone was following him. He wasn’t too bothered though. It could only really be another Slytherin or Potter wanting revenge, but he still hesitated before saying the password, considering whether he really wanted Potter to have access to the Slytherin dorms. He decided there was nothing in there worth hiding anyway.

Draco entered the prefect’s room, and he made a show off changing into his pajamas, washing his face and brushing his teeth, before finally sighing loudly.

“You can come out from that horrid cloak of yours now, Potter.” He heard shuffling, but Potter had yet to appear.

“Go on, give it your best shot.” He heard a little more shuffling and then finally the cloak came off. 

“Alright then, that’s better. Do your best.” 

Potter looked confused, he opened his mouth to say something, but Draco decided he took too long. 

“If you’re not here to hit me, what are you doing? Really, it’s not that hard. If you want I can start.” Draco punched Potter in the gut and saw the fire light in his eyes. Potter retaliated by socking him in the jaw. Draco felt an electrical current run down his spine and a warm feeling in his gut. 

“That’s it, that’s better, I know you’ve missed this, all summer without someone to hurt, to hate, to despise –”

“Shut up, Malfoy, you don’t know shit about my summer.” Potter punctuated this with a hit to the shoulder. Draco tumbled backwards, hitting the wall.

“Oh, how I do love it when you boss me around.” Draco grinned. 

“I said shut up!” Potter hit Draco in the face. Draco’s vision went white, the back of his head smashing into the wall and he felt his mouth overflow with a distinct metallic taste.

When Draco’s vision returned, Potter’s wand pointed to his neck.

“Wands? Really, Potter? You really do have to take the fun out of everything.” He felt blood drip from his mouth as he spoke, and Potter’s eyes darkened at the sight. Oh.

Well, this would be interesting. Draco wrapped his hand around Potter’s wand and pulled it to his mouth, letting his tongue out to touch it. He swirled his tongue around the tip, carefully eyeing Potter to search for his response. His face was stoic, but his jaw clenched. Draco took that to mean that he liked what he was seeing.

Draco took the wand out of Potter’s hand and dropped it on the floor, and then dropped to the floor himself. He strangely wasn’t nervous – he felt invigorated and alive with nothing but pure adrenaline pumping through his veins. He didn’t break eye contact with Potter the entire time, testing his limits and watching his reactions. It was evident by the bulge in his trousers that he was, at least, hard.

Draco slowly unbuttoned Potter’s trousers and pulled them down along with his pants. “My god, you’ve got a pretty cock.”

“Shut up and suck it Malfoy,” Potter ordered. Draco smirked at his tone. He licked his way up the shaft, leaving a trail of blood along it. Potter made a choked moan, so he proceeded to place his lips around the head and suck. His tongue put pressure on that special spot just under the head. Potter hissed at that, just on the right side of pain. Draco took more of him into his mouth, trying his best not to gag as he deepthroated him. He looked up at Potter and immediately met his eyes. 

“F-fuck, Malfoy. God, why’d you never tell me you’re such a cockslut?”

Draco just hummed around his dick in response, starting to bob his head. His own dick was now straining against his trousers, he reached down to palm himself–

“No, Malfoy. You’re not allowed to touch yourself unless I tell you to.” Draco looked at him pleadingly before reaching up to fondle Potter’s balls as a distraction. He pulled away from Potter’s cock.

“Yes, sir,” he said before swirling his tongue around the tip, lapping at it. At this point Potter’s gorgeous dick was covered in a combination of pre-cum, saliva, and blood, and Draco absolutely loved the sight of it. It was almost a shame to swallow him down again, but also a pleasure, because Potter’s dick might’ve been the best thing that’s ever happened to him. So that’s what he did, taking a deep breath and deepthroating him again. Potter inhaled sharply and bit his lip. He was holding back, which simply wouldn’t do. Draco hollowed out his cheeks and slowly retreated, all the way to the tip before bobbing back. He repeated this until Harry was a stammering mess of “Malfoy” and “fuck” and “ahhhh” and “oh my gods.” Just when he felt Potter twitch in his mouth – he pulled completely off. 

Potter looked personally offended, which was, quite frankly, Draco’s favorite look on him. Before Potter could protest he licked a long line from the base of his dick, over his ball sac and across his perineum and to his hole. Draco prayed he was clean as his tongue circled. It was an awkward position, and he swore he’d do a proper job another day, but he got the reaction he wanted because Potter literally just /whined/ and it made his dick twitch in his pants. He dipped his tongue in and swirled around before making his way back to Potter’s dripping cock.

He took his time now, licking along the edge of the head, sucking slightly at the spot just below it, earning another gasp from Potter, then tracing every vein along the shaft.

Potter started growing impatient and grabbed a hold of Draco’s hair. He looked in Draco’s eyes for consent before applying any pressure. Draco nodded eagerly and opened his mouth wide. Potter pushed Draco’s head towards his pelvis and thrust in simultaneously, the head hit the back of Draco’s throat immediately. He felt his eyes begin to water. Potter began to relentlessly fuck into Draco’s mouth. With tears streaming down his face, and a combination of blood and drool dripping down his chin, Draco swore he’d never been more turned on his life. His dick started to hurt from the uncomfortable friction of his pants, and the lack of friction from anything else. Potter started moaning his name like a mantra and his head was thrown back in pleasure. 

“I’m gonna fucking – I’m gonna cum down… your fucking… throat,” just as he said it Draco felt streaks of cum hit the back of his throat and swallowed around Potter’s dick. He tried to get all of it, but some of it still dribbled down his chin. He must look a fucking wreck.

“Holy shit,” Potter exclaimed, in a mixture of shock and pleasure. He looked down at Draco and wiped his chin for him. 

“You were so fucking good… you can touch yourself now… if you want. But, you have to lie on the bed, stark naked, where I can see you.”

“Yes, sir.” 

Draco practically tore off his clothes, lay on his back on the bed with his legs spread, and knees bent. His hands were twitching restlessly, and his eyes begging for instruction from Potter.

“Start at your nipples. Don’t hold back,” Potter commanded. Draco nodded and circled his nipples before pinching them hard, biting his lip. 

“I said don’t hold back!” Potter barked. 

“Sorry, sir,” Draco said, in a broken voice. He released his nipples and pinched them again, this time letting out and audible gasp. 

“Good boy.” Draco smirked at that, and moaned for show. 

“Alright, enough of that. You can start working your way down… but slowly.” Draco just nodded again, before running his hands along his slightly defined abs, his hands meeting at his belly button. He looked up at Potter for permission. Potter nodded, his eyes stern, but with the same electricity in them as usual. 

Draco moaned at that alone, involuntarily. He looked down at his leaking cock. He’d been waiting so long, his own hands would seem a disappointment, but this is what Potter wanted – this is what Potter ordered him to do, so his hands would have to do. He wrapped one around the base, steadying it, whilst using his other hand to run his fingertips along the shaft.

Potter groaned, and Draco smirked at him before licking his hand and stroking his cock languidly, brushing his thumb along the head on the upstroke. It didn’t take long before he came, but when he did he had those electric green eyes burned behind his eyelids as he grasped the sheets and screamed out.

When he opened his eyes, Potter was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, as always go to my incredible beta, Ember.


	3. I want to kiss you so hard that your lips bleed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco gets fucked with, fucked and then fucked over.

It wasn’t discussed for weeks. Malfoy began to think he’d imagined it. It wouldn’t surprise him– he was nothing but foggy delusions and half-formed ideas at this point. Except that it seemed beyond anything Draco would ever imagine for himself. He was lost in a constant cycle of self-doubt until one morning, at breakfast, he received a note with his post.   
  
 _12:00 pm. Astronomy Tower. All fours. Nothing but the tie._

It didn’t need a signature. Draco recognised that handwriting immediately. He glanced across the room. Potter was staring at him and nodded before laughing abruptly at something Granger had said.

***

The rest of the day was agony. Potter hadn’t looked at him once, and Draco started to believe he’d imagined it all. In fact, he was downright certain. Even if he hadn’t imagined what happened a few weeks prior, he’d definitely imagined Potter in his bed Sunday morning, and he’d probably imagined this too. If Potter did want a repeat… he was impulsive, he wouldn’t wait this long, he wouldn’t do it like this, he’d be more spontaneous – hex first and then have his way. 

No, this was too orchestrated. 

By the end of potions, Draco had made up his mind: he wasn’t going.

But, what if he hadn’t imagined it? The idea of waiting up there for Potter, the idea of being naked and shivering only to have Potter show up behind him. To have Potter take advantage of him. He had to admit, the idea was quite appealing. But, no, if Potter wanted to court him, he’d have to use his words, or at least, actions. Draco wasn’t going to risk being humiliated by Potter once again.

***

“Where the fuck were you?” 

Draco jumped at the sudden intrusion. Potter was breathing down his neck heavily. 

“Why, what brings you to this part of the castle at this untimely hour?” Draco smirked, happy to know that he hadn’t been imagining things and that he had this effect on Potter.

“Cut the crap, Malfoy. I said where were you?!” Potter punctuated his question, by wrapping his arm around Draco’s waist and pulling him right up against him.

 Oh, yes, he definitely had an effect on Potter. 

“I’m sorry, sir. I’ve misbehaved, do punish me.” Despite meaning every word, Draco couldn’t help add the sarcastic tone. Potter turned him around swiftly, looking him up and down with hungry eyes.

“Fuck, you’re too pretty for your own good.” He looked Draco in the eyes, a dangerous spark lingering within his. “You’re damn right I’m gonna punish you.” 

Potter pushed Draco’s robe off his shoulders, undid Draco’s tie, and tied it around his wrists. He  slowly unbuttoned Draco’s shirt. Despite Potter’s obvious impatience, he was determined to tease Draco as much as possible. When he’d finally unbuttoned the shirt, he pushed it back so it bunched up around Draco’s forearms. Draco hadn’t said a word, didn’t want to risk saying something wrong, and, quite frankly, he was a little awestruck. 

Potter seemed restless now, unsure of what to do, so he kissed Draco. He then seemed to figure it out because he quickly pulled away and picked his invisibility cloak up off the ground and threw it over the both of them. 

“They could still hear us, you know, if someone were to pass by,” Draco pointed out.

“You’d better keep quiet then,” growled Potter, undoing his tie and tying it around Draco’s head, gagging him. 

Draco loved this. It made him forget. It made everything hurt less. He had something to ground him, something tangible, something real. 

“Stop thinking. I need you to feel this,” Potter said, undoing his trousers. “Turn around and lean on the wall.”

Draco complied, resting on his forearms, and stuck his bum out. 

“God, you’re so gorgeous I could practically rip you apart.”

Draco’s cock twitched 

Potter whispered an inaudible spell, and seconds later Draco could feel wet fingers at his entrance. He pushed back against them. 

“You really are desperate, huh?” Potter punctuated by thrusting his finger in, unexpectedly. 

Draco moaned, muffled by the tie. 

“Quiet, or I’ll stop,” Potter snapped. Draco bit the gag in a feeble attempt to obey Potter as he started fingering him an agonizing pace. Luckily, showing his usual lack of restraint, he sped up in no time. He added another digit almost too quickly, but Draco welcomed the pain. 

Suddenly, Potter’s fingers retreated. Draco made his protest known by bucking his hips helplessly. He heard wet sounds, and before he could start to audibly protest, he felt Potter’s hands hold his hips still, and his tip of his cock press against his entrance. Potter thrust into him a moment later, and Draco’s vision momentarily went white. 

Potter, continuing to show minimal restraint, started thrusting immediately, giving Draco no time to adjust. 

Potter, being the git he is, couldn’t even be inconsiderate properly, and still went relatively slowly. It wasn’t until Draco tried to break-free from Potter’s grip on his hips that he finally sped up, pushing Draco against the wall and thrusting mercilessly into him. Draco bit down on his tie as Potter reached around to stroke his shaft, whispering in his ear, “Are you always such a cockslut or is it just for me?” He grunted and puffed and Draco tried not to scream as he felt the warmth build up in his gut.

“You can come now,” Potter said through gritted teeth. Draco let out a muffled whine as he came in streaks that hit the wall. He clenched around Potter, urging him on and soon enough he felt himself fill up with Potter’s come.

Potter pulled out immediately. He whispered a few cleansing spells and helped Draco get dressed, mumbling a few “sorry”s before shuffling away.

Draco felt disoriented, but he tried not to think too deeply about what had happened as he made his way into the Slytherin dorms and into his bed. Of course, Draco being Draco, he didn’t get a wink of sleep as he spent the entire night reliving the events of that evening in his head, a part of him wishing Potter was doing the same.

***

Potter went back to not even so much as glancing at him the next day, but Draco decided he wouldn’t care. 

Draco definitely cared, but he decided he wouldn’t do that.

Pansy reached for his hand in potions, “Are you alright?” she asked, her eyes concerned. 

“Yeah. Just bored. There’s never anything to do around here, just miles and miles of nothing but Hogwarts and Hogsmeade,” Draco said in a monotone voice, trying not to let anything slip.

“Well…” she said, stroking small circles on the top of Draco’s hand. “We could do something fun… we could even talk to Blaise. It could be just like this summer,” she said suggestively. 

“I suppose that could be interesting.” At least, it would keep Draco’s mind off things.

***

They decided upon meeting in the Room of Requirement. Pansy was to bring the snacks; Blaise, the fire-whiskey; and Draco, himself. The room had conjured them up something similar to the Slytherin common room, but smaller and with giant pillows on the floor. Pansy uncharacteristically squealed as she dived into the pillows, before fixing herself up and posing in a rather Winslet-like manner. Blaise followed her lead, but with his legs a bit more spread. They both looked up at him, questioningly.

“Where’s the whiskey?” Draco inquired, cocking his eyebrow. Blaise casually pulled it out of his robe, throwing it towards Draco. Luckily, with his refined dueling and seeker skills, Draco had good enough reflexes to catch the bottle. He unscrewed the cap and chugged about a quarter of the bottle before the others started to protest.

The night consisted of giggles and silly games of truth or dare and spin the bottle. It started to feel like old times. That’s what was great about Pansy and Blaise – Crabbe and Goyle were good body guards, but no one could cheer him up quite like they could. 

After making out with them both, the room informed them that breakfast was being served in the Great Hall, just like the many times before. Draco couldn’t remember the last time he willingly pulled an all-nighter, but he hadn’t felt this awake in a long time.

They shuffled down to the Great Hall in a leisurely pace, laughing whilst they recounted the night’s events. 

“I can’t believe you have a crush on Potter,” Pansy snorted. 

“It’s not a crush!” Draco hissed, becoming dangerously aware of how close they were getting to the Great Hall. 

“The veritaserum begs to differ.” Blaise elbowed him casually. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Draco scoffed as he entered the great hall. Out of habit he glanced towards the Gryffindor table, and the second he laid eyes on Potter, it became clear that it wasn’t “whatever.” Everything that happened last night suddenly didn’t mean a thing. The heavy cloud returned to his head and distaste filled his mouth. He tried to smile as Pansy ushered them to their table, but it fell short.

She suddenly just seemed like a hindrance, keeping him from his goal. They all did, and last night seemed like a rookie mistake at trying to grasp at past happiness. All it did was fill him with a bitter taste of nostalgia of all the things that he wouldn’t have for much longer.

He left early, using a hangover as an excuse despite not having slept or even drunk that much. He slumped back towards the Slytherin dorms, and of bloody course Potter had to show up.

“What do you want,” Draco growled as he heard the similar sound of Potter’s footsteps approaching. 

“I– I thought it was clear. About what I wanted, that is,” Potter replied. They’d both stopped in their tracks. Draco smirked. He liked hearing Potter unsure. He reached his hand back for Potter to take, but the other boy just pushed past him. Draco suddenly felt a familiar sting, reminding him of 6 years ago. 

“So? Are you going to let me in?” Potter seemed agitated. 

“What’s the rush? We don’t have any classes today..” Draco drawled, trying to sound nonchalant. He knew it would only be a matter of time before the other Slytherins would finish eating, but he missed these interactions with Potter. He knew he’d be gone soon enough. He let him in and lead the way to his private dorm. The second he’d closed the door, Potter was on him, biting at his neck and pulling at his shirt. 

“You smell like firewhiskey,” he growled before dropping to his knees. 

It was quick, as expected. A blowjob, and then he fucked Draco on his bed until he blacked out. When Draco awoke, he was gone.

Draco didn’t leave the room for the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this is so late, both me and my beta have been super busy, but !!! it's up now, and hopefully i'll get the next chapter up within a month this time.
> 
> thanks again to my beta Ember, and to all of you reading this, you're great.

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter is quite short, they get longer. 
> 
> Thanks to my ever-so-loyal beta Ember !! (@isaacfignewton)
> 
> You can find me on tumblr @transronanlynch.


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